


One More Eulogy

by Josies



Series: No Saints Without Sinners [11]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Gen, One Shot, Saints Row 2 - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-03 23:19:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11542521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josies/pseuds/Josies
Summary: The Boss and Johnny take a moment to chat after Carlos' funeral.





	One More Eulogy

 

* * *

**September 2009**

* * *

 

 

"How often you think we gonna have to stand on this godforsaken land of the dead?"

Johnny walks up to the Boss to stand beside her. She's staring at a white stone angel holding a black marble headstone, surrounded by a small sea of burned-out candles and dead flowers. Her own grave. Must be an experience. Not many people get to do that.

He stays silent for a bit, reading the words engraved under her name and the dates of her birth and supposed death. _Precious in the sight of the Lord are the deaths of his saints_.

"I watched them put down an empty casket right here over two years ago, you know," he says as he searches for his pack of cigarettes in his pocket. He just doesn't know how to answer her question. "It was white with pink roses and purple lilies all over it. Expensive. You woulda liked it."

"Sounds nice," she replies with a nod, pursing her lips approvingly. She nudges his arm and he offers her a smoke. She probably has her own, somewhere, but she's always stealing his. He used to hate it. Now, he smokes the same brand she does, just to save himself the trouble of having to listen to her whining, or so he tells himself. "You all got smashed after at Tee'N'Ay, right?"

Johnny lights up her cigarette first, then his own, taking a few seconds to think of what to say. He's not sure what her brother has told her about those two years, or if they've talked about it at all. It seems to be a family issue, emotional awkwardness. He decides she should know. "Felipe told us to go to hell after the burial. He said he only let us be there 'cause that's what you woulda wanted."

She chews on the filter, getting lipstick on her teeth. Johnny doesn't know it, but he's right — her brother refuses to talk about any of it. Not knowing bothers her, but she understands. For a long time it was just the two of them. Looking back now she's not even sure how they survived some of it. Those years created an unbreakable bond between them. Felipe would do anything for her and she would do anything for him. If something happened to him, she wouldn't know how to move forward. How to live without him. And she's sure he didn't know either. After she woke up and heard she took a two-year nap, she was afraid this would be the address she'd find him at. She'd never been more relieved in her life than when she found him alive.

"Figures. A huge party with blow and hoes and all my friends having the time of their fuckin' lives is what I woulda wanted." She makes a joke of it, naturally. Better bottle up those feelings and let them age like a fine wine.

"Your brother couldn't stand losin' you. I don't blame him. Even less, now."

"I know."

Johnny shifts in his place, giving the grass a little kick. He kinda wants Doris to know more, but Felipe's his friend, like the damn brother he never had, and he probably wouldn't appreciate it. Then again, whatever. Johnny's not really known for thinking about other people's feelings. There's no reason to start now. "He beat the shit out of me." He feels like a snitch for saying that, though.

"What—literally? And you just let him?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "The guy was a mess. I figured it better I let him take it out on me rather than whoever the fuck else got on his way."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

They stand in silence for a minute. She's still staring at her own grave, but it's not the reason for them to be standing around there. He wishes that was their only business today more than anything, really, but they don't seem to have the luxury of avoiding funerals. The luxury of saving the people they work hard to protect. There's a fresh grave right next to hers. The stone is bigger, even more expensive than her own. She spared no expense in arranging Carlos' funeral.

Johnny glances at her from the corner of his eye. She's wearing all black, her hair in a neat bun on top of her head, a pair of big sunglasses conveniently hiding half of her face behind them. Besides her hands and face, she's not showing an inch of skin. It's kinda odd to see her like that. So far funerals have been the only occasion to have her cover up her body. "How ya holdin' up?" He asks, keeping his tone free of concern.

"I'm fine." Her voice sounds less assuring than usual. It cracks a little at the end.

"Yeah? Not plannin' to run off to fight the Brotherhood the moment I turn away for five minutes tonight?"

"I just stood here alone for like, fifteen minutes," she points out as she crosses her arms over her chest. She watches the purple clouds above them slowly turning darker. It's quiet. The streetlights turn on one by one, crackling. As fucking awful as she feels, at least the funeral was beautiful. "Did you have a good chat?" She asks, hoping to avoid the topic Johnny insists on bringing up.

He flicks the burned-out cigarette behind him, away from the graves, and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his pants. He had a bouquet of flowers waiting in his car for the end of the burial. After everyone left, he went to get it and headed to Aisha's grave, and the Boss stayed behind with him. Said she needed a moment alone with Carlos. "Yeah. It was good. Easier." He still counts the days. He never thought letting go would be... like this. Whatever this is. Guilt and regret and insomnia. He misses her so damn much. "You're dodging my question, though. What're you gonna do now?"

"We'll go and meet the others at El Hombre. Then we'll drink and share all the nice memories we have of Carlos. That's it. I'm not fightin' anyone tonight." She pauses, finishing up her cigarette, too. She blows the smoke out slowly. "It was his favorite bar. I keep wonderin' how I never met him there before. Maybe he just didn't go there back then. I meant to ask, but I never did."

"I regret the small things, too. The ones I never got around to do."

"Makes me feel like such an asshole."

"You treated him well, Boss. You and your brother practically adopted him to your family. The kid appreciated it. He was happy."

"Somehow, that doesn't help," she replies quietly. Her heart's been twisted up inside her chest ever since the night she rushed to save Carlos. It aches and burns, and she knows she deserves it. For failing him, if nothing else.

Johnny turns his head to take a better look at her. Her shoulders and jaw are tense from all the anger she's holding up inside her. Just when he thought she couldn't possibly get any angrier, that her small body couldn't store any more negative energy, not without her losing control over it. She's about to tear apart a whole crew with her bare hands, and he's not sure if that'll be enough for her. If she'll give herself permission to let go once she's done, when there's nothing left of the Brotherhood, nothing but a grisly warning of what happens to the next group of arrogant dicks trying to fuck with people close to her.

All he can do is try to offer her a distraction. Something she's been doing for him for months. He puts his arm around her shoulders, pretending to lean on her in a way that he knows annoys her, but she doesn't move, doesn't push him away. He pulls her in a little closer. "You know, when you die, we ain't gonna bother with a new grave. We'll just dig up the first one and put you in." That's the best he manages. It's definitely not something people would normally consider to be comforting.

And yet, she chuckles. "Whenever I get self-aware about how big of an asshole I am, you manage to remind me that you're an even bigger one. Every time."

"Come on, the grave's empty. It's like recycling, or some shit. Good for the environment."

"That makes no fuckin' sense."

"Don't think nobody ever blamed you for being too smart."

She smacks his chest with the back of her hand, shakes his arm off her shoulders, and turns around to walk towards their cars. Her high heels stick to the soft ground, but somehow she still makes it look graceful. "Let's go, Robo-Leg. Time to get drunk."

Johnny gives the new headstone one more look. He waits for the Boss to walk further away before speaking low. "Don't worry, kid. I'll look after her. Promise." He looks up and does a subtle salute by swiping two fingers over his forehead. Then, he turns around to follow the Boss out of the cemetery, sticking another cigarette between his lips, his fingers fumbling for the lighter in his pocket.

He doesn't visit as often after that.

 

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> El Hombre is a bar in Barrio we unfortunately can't enter. As a sidenote, I'm BossGat trash, and there's lots of mutual pining and longing coming soon. I mean, A LOT. I live for it.


End file.
